


Demons in the Dark

by nihilistshiro



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Alternate Universe - Fantasy, Blood, Demon Priest!Kuroo, KuroKen - Freeform, M/M, Water Dragon Kenma, mild violence
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-15
Updated: 2019-08-15
Packaged: 2020-09-01 06:03:42
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,237
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20253355
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/nihilistshiro/pseuds/nihilistshiro
Summary: Demon priest Kuroo protects the jungles of Nekoma with his mate Kenma, an orphaned water dragon who stumbled into his life and gave meaning to his seemingly endless, solitary existence.But when Kuroo leaves for the neighboring village of Seijoh and Kenma is left alone, smugglers desperate to find one of the last living water dragons finally track him down.Will Kuroo be able to save him in time?





	Demons in the Dark

**Author's Note:**

> Wrote this lil ditty for @kurokenweek! Hope you enjoy it!!

Kenma sighed, his webbed fingers deftly sticking to the page of his book. His long, forked tongue darted out to lick the offending digit so he could turn it. 

With Kuroo gone on another one of his trips, Kenma was alone again, trying to get lost in another one of the books that Kuroo so loved to spoil him with. 

Kenma scanned the page with indifference, his delicate features set in the bland expression he wore almost exclusively. He flipped the page again, his tail splashing in the small pond behind the cottage. 

Shortly after Kenma agreed to move in, Kuroo put the utmost effort into making a comfortable place for him. Behind the cottage, nestled into the thick vegetation, Kuroo built a pond to Kenma’s exact specifications, creating an oasis for him where he could indulge in swimming at his leisure.

Kenma didn’t have to be in the water all the time, but having that ability to do it daily kept him in good health, both physical and mental.

All in all, it was a lovely place to be stuck.

There was a particular slab of rock that had the perfect blend of sun and shade. It was Kenma’s favorite reading spot. His legs and tail floated in the water while his stomach rested on the smooth stone, elbows propped so he could lean over his book.

He flipped another page, trying to ignore the ache in his chest at Kuroo’s absence. He looked up, golden eyes assessing the sun’s position in the sky. Kuroo said he’d return before sundown, which was still a few hours off. 

Kenma sighed again. 

The sun was warm on his skin and it made the scales that trailed along his arms and shoulders sparkle. The scales started on his webbed hands, a dark burgundy, and grew lighter and lighter as they capped his shoulders in the color of a soft pink pearl.

The same scale pattern adorned his legs and tail. Fuchsia spikes started at his nape and traveled down to the tail’s tip. They matched the webbed fins that served as Kenma’s ears, sticking out of his brassy two-toned hair. 

A noise in the distance made those ears flick, yanking him out of the story, the snap of a twig and the soft crunch of leaves alerting him to interlopers. He abandoned his book and sank into the water, hiding between two large boulders. 

His hearing was impeccable, and he was able to identify at least six people sneaking through the jungle and surrounding the cottage. There wasn’t enough time for him to make it inside, so the only mode of defense available to him was to hide.

He camouflaged himself underwater, blending in neatly with the stones Kuroo designed for such an occasion. Kenma could make out the resonating sound of footsteps growing closer, muffled voices whispering to each other. He could barely make out what they were saying.

_ Water dragon. Find him. _

The voices grew closer, their footsteps sending shockwaves through the water. Kenma knew they couldn’t see him, but he still felt fear crawl up his spine. He wished more than anything that Kuroo was there and felt foolish for his own weakness.

A small tablet plunked into the pond and plumes of black sprang forth, clouding the water. It reached Kenma and when it passed through his gills, he began to choke, the poison making it impossible to breath. 

The enemy was flushing him out.

He tried to hold his breath for as long as possible, but it was a futile effort. The poison burned his scales as he surfaced at the center of the pond, careful to keep away from the edges. 

“There he is!”

“Quick, get the net!”

“Don’t let him get away!”

Kenma’s secondary eyelids shot open, his gaze wide and panicked as he spun around, trying to get a glimpse of his attackers. They were wearing scarves over their mouths, making it difficult to distinguish their features. Despite the jungle’s sticky heat, they also wore long capes with hoods in dark brown and green, camouflage in the thick foliage.

He was still coughing up black water when a heavy metal net soared out across the pond and entangled him. It dragged him back beneath the surface and terror spiked in his gut. 

Kenma thrashed around, trying and failing to free himself.

The net began to move, pulling him out of the water. Kenma coughed again, curled up on his side as the kidnappers swarmed him.

The leader leaned down by Kenma’s face, a long dagger in his hand glinting in the sun.

“My men and I have traveled a very long distance to find you, dragon.” As he spoke, the man let the tip of the knife trace Kenma’s cheekbone. Kenma shuddered, his eyes scrunched shut.

“Look at me,” the man said and Kenma obeyed, only to find the man’s blood-red stare centimeters from his own. “Don’t make this difficult for us and I won’t have to use this knife. Our buyer wants you alive, for whatever reason, and if we have to kill you on the way I lose half the bounty.”

Kenma gulped. 

“I promise you that if I do have to kill you, it won’t be an easy death. Now, can you be a good little  maggot and do as we say?”

Kenma nodded, certain that the man with blood-red eyes smiled, though his mouth was covered with dark cloth.

“Good.”

He snapped instructions to the other men and soon they were binding Kenma’s wrists and ankles and throwing him over the back of a mule. 

Kenma fought down the bile rising in his throat. He wanted to scream and wail. He wanted to throttle Kuroo for leaving him. 

But more than anything, he wanted to quell the tears burning behind his eyes, a torrent of emotions overwhelming him.

Just as he began to lose himself in his own despair, something sparkled, drawing his attention to his wrist where he caught sight of the beaded bracelet Kuroo gave him when they first mated. 

It was made of glossy blue beads that looked like water and always made Kenma feel safe.

He hated to destroy something so precious to him, but it was his only chance at leaving a trail that Kuroo could follow. It was lucky that they hadn’t tied up his tail, perhaps unsure of how to manage it or a lack of sufficient rope to do the job. 

Whatever the reason, Kenma was grateful. He slowly curled his tail around his body until it reached his hands. 

Carefully, so as not to draw attention to himself, Kenma tugged the bracelet free, coiling his tail to catch the beads as it unraveled. He let one shiny, round bauble fall to the forest floor and prayed it would be enough for Kuroo to find him.

He couldn’t give up hope, couldn’t let himself get sick with fear. Instead, he stayed awake, dropping a bead every so often, each one a promise to his mate that he would fight to get back to him.

* * *

The sun was just setting beyond the mountainous ridge line, casting golden shadows through the canopy of trees. Birds and monkeys added to the choir of the jungle that drifted to him through the cloying evening air. 

Kuroo was ahead of schedule and he grinned as he thought of the way Kenma’s face would soften with pleasure at his return. His satchel was heavy with new books and treats from Seijoh, the closest town, albeit a half day’s journey away. 

As he neared the cottage, he let his human disguise fade and took his natural form. It was a necessary precaution whenever he traveled and he’d mastered his ability to blend in with the humans, which made it infinitely easier to trade for the items he needed.

His long hair shrank down to dark spikes, two sharp, amber horns curling from his crown. He stretched taller, his limbs elongating, his fingers growing to pointed black claws. His ears transformed from curved shells to arrowlike peaks, golden hoops lining each lobe.

Kuroo’s eyes glowed like liquid gold, burnished in the fading light of day. He snapped his fingers and his simple peasant garb transformed into lush, red robes, the silk so dark it looked purple. He let out a contented hum, eager to be done with his latest adventure.

On this most recent trip to Seijoh, he’d been in search of information on a disease that appeared to be affecting some of the young trees in his forest. He’d found an old alchemist who showed him how to make a salve that would hopefully cure them.

He couldn’t wait to tell Kenma about it. Kenma was an excellent listener, always sitting patiently while Kuroo regaled him with tales from his travels. 

Just as the cottage was coming into view, a cold shiver trickled down Kuroo’s spine. The energy around him felt spoiled, the air thick and sour. He dropped his satchel and ran.

“Kenma! Kenma!” He strained his ears for his mate’s voice, gritting his teeth together when no reply came. “Kenma!”

Kuroo tore open the door, immediately flicking his fingers so that flames shot out of each digit and lit every candle and the modest fireplace. 

Nothing inside was disturbed, the entire dwelling exactly as it had been when he left. He went out to the pond behind the cottage, where Kenma could usually be found.

Kuroo froze when he saw the black water. 

Soiled pages of an open book rested in Kenma’s favorite spot. Kuroo bent down to retrieve it, rage blinding his vision as he gently stroked his finger along the damp page. 

He snapped the book shut, his eyes flashing brimstone as he scoured the ground for tracks. 

It didn’t take Kuroo long to find the first bead. He pulled a dried herb from his pocket and crushed it into dust, sprinkling it across the bead where it rested in his cupped palm.

The herb sizzled and sparked as it came into contact with the bead and the rounded blue crystal was glowed bright. 

Darkness would soon descend and Kuroo would need his magic to find more beads and follow Kenma’s trail. 

He collected his satchel—leaving behind the books and telling himself that he would give them to Kenma when he brought him home—and set off. He found another bead glowing in the thick jungle brush not far from the first.

Kuroo could warp short distances, each time his body evaporating into dark smoke before reappearing a few meters away. The ability allowed him to scan the area around him while he did it, which was incredibly helpful for battle. 

It wasn’t normally used for matters of endurance, but Kuroo was willing to push his limits to find Kenma. 

He would travel all night if he had to. Kuroo would go to any lengths to bring Kenma home safely. 

* * *

Kenma was grateful when the kidnappers finally decided to stop for the night. His stomach and ribs hurt from riding on the mule, his wrists chafed and bleeding from his binds. 

He was taken off his mount and tossed to the ground, the undergrowth of the forest crunching beneath his form.

“Stay put,” one of the kidnappers said. 

Kenma watched in silence as they went about setting a fire and passing a flask between themselves. No one offered water or food to Kenma, which he thought was incredibly rude, but he wasn’t going to ask.

He took stock of his injuries, his tongue lapping clean all the wounds he could reach. Kenma’s venom had a special healing power, but it wouldn’t be as effective on dry land. At some point, he would get dehydration sickness, but Kenma refused to worry about that until he had to. 

The night sky was clear and a few bright stars were visible between the canopy of black trees. He wondered if Kuroo had returned to the cottage. Had he found the beads? Would he make it in time?

While they were traversing the jungle, Kenma overheard two of the kidnappers talk about their destination—Karasuno, a town that sat on a winding river and would allow them to hire a boat and make it to the coast, at which point Kenma was to be sold out international buyer, stashed away like cargo on a ship headed for a distant shore.

At some point he was offered a small cup of water, which he took warily but drank greedily. It wasn’t long after that he started nodding off, curling into a protective ball, his arms and legs bound but his tail wrapped protectively around his middle. 

He awoke to a blood-curdling scream. 

It ripped across the jungle, bats and birds alike flocking from the trees as another sharp cry followed the first. 

The fire was nearly out, a pile of glowing orange embers providing Kenma just enough light to make out the scene before him. Two of the kidnappers were crumpled on the ground in pools of their own blood. 

He could see that the one closest to him had their throat ripped out.

Suddenly the fire erupted into three rocketing columns of flame. They rose high into the air before arching back down, targeting three more of the kidnappers.

“Kuroo,” Kenma whispered, a dark figure emerging from between the smoldering bodies. 

Framed by clouds of thick flame and acrid smoke, Kuroo’s shadow loomed large, a black shape against the night with two molten eyes that promised vengeance.

Before Kenma could call out to him, large hands grabbed him around the waist. The leader of the kidnappers hoisted him over his shoulder and began sprinting away from the scene.

Kenma let out a short scream, but the jostling of the man’s shoulder into his bruised ribs knocked the breath out of him. Branches whipped against him as the man raced through the undergrowth.

Suddenly, Kuroo appeared in their path, black tendrils of smoke rolling off him. 

“Stop where you are,” Kuroo said, using his most intimidating tone, one that was much lower than any sound a human could make.

Kenma could feel the man beneath him tremble and he hoisted Kenma off his shoulder, positioning his body like a shield.

“If you come any closer, I’ll kill him,” the leader said, voice quivering as his big knife pressed against the base of Kenma’s throat. 

“I wouldn’t do that if I were you,” Kuroo said, using his normal tone, a mocking smile curled on his sharp mouth. “I can give you a quick and painless end, which is generous considering the fact that you stole my mate. But if you kill him, I won’t kill you. I’ll keep you and make it my life’s work to watch you suffer in new and creative ways each and every day.”

The man’s hand shook, the knife scraping against Kenma’s skin. 

Kenma could see Kuroo’s face in the shadows, could make out the determined set of his jaw and the ruthless glint in his eye. He gave a slight nod and a breath later his tail darted up and yanked the man’s wrist away. At the same time Kuroo warped, materializing behind the man and grabbing his throat, lifting him off the ground.

Kuroo made short work crushing the man’s windpipe, knowing that Kenma didn’t care for gore, wishing he could take his sweet time and tear the man apart. He let the body fall to the ground in a heap, stepping past it to pull Kenma into his arms.

Kenma melted against Kuroo’s chest, shock from the ordeal shaking him in violent tremors. 

“You found me,” Kenma whispered, Kuroo’s hand stroking his hair. 

“Of course I found you, love,” Kuroo replied, his lips brushing over Kenma’s brow, his temple, his eyelids. “I’m so sorry I left you.”

Kenma wanted to reassure his mate, but he couldn’t speak against the waves of emotion washing over him, so instead, he let Kuroo lift him into his arms and carry him back to the campsite where they recovered the mule.

Kuroo was grateful that Kenma fell asleep almost immediately, his shoulders slumping where he sat on the mule’s back. 

Kuroo didn’t want his mate to see the extent of his rage. 

Before they left the campsite, Kuroo dragged the bodies of the kidnappers together and put them atop the fire. He did a quick incantation and threw a handful of herbs onto the flames. They jumped up, a putrid green, and the bodies writhed as they were consumed by his curse, ensuring they would not be able to find peace in the afterlife.

Kuroo felt no remorse as he watched the corpses shrivel up. He had no room for sympathy when it came to those who would attack what was his. 

* * *

Kenma felt groggy as late evening sun poured into the cottage. He’d been asleep for most of the day, his body aching as he stretched his arms high over his head.

“Hey,” Kuroo said from his seat by the fire. He was stirring something that smelled an awful lot like Kenma’s favorite fish stew. “How are you feeling?”

“Hmmm,” Kenma hummed thoughtfully. Kuroo brought him a cup of water and Kenma accepted it gratefully. 

“I’m feeling okay,” he said after he’d finished his drink. “My wrists hurt.”

“Let me see.”

Kenma held out his hands, his burgundy scales marred by thick scabs. Kuroo brought over a small jar and used a special salve on them. 

“You can tend to these later in the pond, but you should probably eat first.”

“Yeah,” Kenma said, looking up at his mate. “Kuroo. Thank you for saving me.”

Kuroo gifted him a soft grin. “Of course, love.”

He bent down and captured Kenma’s lips in a gentle kiss. “I’ll always save you. And you helped, by the way. Good job leaving the beads. Made it a snap to follow you.”

“It was all I could think of,” Kenma said, his brows drawing in a delicate frown. “I’m sorry I destroyed your gift.”

Kuroo’s smile grew wider. “Lucky for you, I found them all.”

Kuroo walked over to his satchel and pulled out a small pouch. He tossed it onto the blanket covering Kenma’s lap. Kenma met his gaze with one of shining gratitude. 

“We’ll restring them into a new bracelet. Or a necklace. Or anything you want.”

A lump in Kenma’s throat prevented him from replying right away. He blinked back tears and swallowed it down. 

“Thank you.”

“Kenma. You don’t have to thank me. Making you happy, keeping you safe, these are the things that give my life meaning. I love this forest, but I would leave it in a heartbeat if it meant keeping you by my side.”

“I would never ask you to do that.”

“I know, but I don’t know if I can go through that again. It might be the only way…”

“What if I traveled with you more often?”

“And leave your pond? Our home?”

“My home is wherever you are,” Kenma said shyly. “I love you.”

Kuroo sat on the bed and pulled Kenma into his arms, his mind already spinning with a hundred ideas for how they could go on adventures together, of how he could make transportable accommodations for his little water dragon. 

With Kenma at his side, he could do anything.

“I love you, too.”

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you to Brit and Shanny for beta-ing!
> 
> Twitter: [@nihilistshiro](https://twitter.com/NihilistShiro)


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